A Strange Tradition
by ghostgirl19
Summary: How could a poor, aspiring seamstress ever manage to catch the Prince's attention? Moreover, how could she have ever caused him to arrange secret meetings between them in darkened corridors? It wasn't on purpose.


**A Strange Tradition**

Marinette gulped at the look of raw desire swimming in the blond's green orbs. They were directed solely on her, something she never would have thought possible when she first came to the castle.

For how could a poor, aspiring seamstress ever manage to catch the Prince's attention? Moreover, how could she have ever caused him to arrange secret meetings between them in darkened corridors?

It wasn't on purpose.

Last year, after the King had seen her designs and needlework, he had accepted her to be an apprentice to the Royal Seamstress, Tikki. She would train to take the woman's place one day, helping to design gowns, uniforms, and mend other clothing in the meantime. She was ecstatic at the opportunity, to say the least.

When she first came to the castle, she had absolutely no intentions of capturing the Prince's heart. In fact, she didn't think she would ever even see him. Maybe from far away, in the safety of another room, but never face-to-face.

So it surprised her greatly when Tikki had asked her to get his measurements for a new jacket.

"But, don't you already have his measurements?" she had questioned with a raised eyebrow.

The redhead grinned. " _I_ have them, but _you_ don't."

Marinette then sighed and proceeded to walk to where the Prince's quarters were supposed to be. It took awhile to reach the room, but when she did she let out a breath of relief. Measuring tape in hand, she took a deep breath and knocked.

"Come in," she heard a young, masculine voice reply.

She straightened, smoothed out her dress's skirt, and opened the door.

And that's when sapphire met emerald.

.

Of course, it didn't immediately escalate to wild and passionate kisses in dark corners. Oh no, far from that.

At first, she was only the seamstress's apprentice, sent to get his measurements. And he, the courteous Prince, ready to abide. They exchanged pleasantries, then Marinette set to work.

He surprised her by trying to initiate a conversation with her, something that she never expected. Then again, he did a lot of things that she didn't expect, but that's later.

A royal almost never tries to make conversation with any kind of servant. They were both supposed to remain quiet while the servant got what they were sent for and left. That's just how it was. Royals were more important, thus only bestowed their friendliness to people of worth.

But Prince Adrien broke all those standards. He was nice, and kind, and sweet. He was warm like the sun itself. By the end of the session, Marinette not only had the Prince's measurements, but his friendship as well.

After that they saw each other quite often in the castle, mostly when they were just passing by when not on their way to any particular place. At first they would only exchange hello's and how are you's, but then he surprised her yet again one day when he asked her to take a walk with him through the gardens.

She accepted, and kept accepting his request every day for the next two months. Each day they would walk together. If they weren't in the gardens then they were around the castle, with both of them exchanging stories, jokes, and the events of their day.

To witnesses, they would say that the two were good friends, and commended their Prince for being so kind to a peasant.

They had no idea that the young pair were slowly falling in love with each other.

Marinette remained steadfast in her decision to not let her feelings for him be known. After all, she wasn't royalty like he was. She had no chance. Besides, even if they weren't in different social classes, he could never like a girl like her. She was clumsy and plain, lacking the grace of any proper young woman. No man would want her.

So consider her surprised, _again_ , when she found a letter from the handsome Prince waiting for her in her bedroom.

She had to read it three times over for it to digest, and even then it didn't fully register.

The letter itself was long, the idea written so eloquently that it took the entire piece of parchment. But it was successful in taking her breath away. Then again, even if he wrote his point in one line it would've been enough to take away her breath.

That point being: he had developed feelings for her, and requested her presence that evening in his study.

There, they both revealed all that they felt towards one another, yet both were fully aware that a legitimate relationship between them would be impossible to have. A match between a seamstress and a prince would never be allowed by the King.

Their solution? To meet in secret.

So that's what they have done, for a year now.

…

But even so, as Adrien's lips now claimed hers in a fiery, possessive kiss, an instinct still screamed inside of her of how wrong this was. She shouldn't be having a secret relationship with the Crown Prince of France, it was practically forbidden!

Yet there she was, returning his affection just as fervently as they engaged in a passionate war of tongues.

She knew this wouldn't last. He would eventually have to marry a princess, and she would move on to become the official seamstress and she would marry the second-best man around. It wouldn't be such a bad life. So what if the man she loved would be just out of her reach, and she couldn't do anything about it? She'll be fine. She knows this won't last forever, she's prepared.

Adrien must have sensed her change of mood, for he separated his mouth from hers and started to pepper her neck with sweet, comforting kisses.

No. She shouldn't get so depressed about the future. She should enjoy _this_ while it lasts.

She tilted her neck back to give him better access, closing her eyes to relish in the feeling of his warm lips against her skin. After all, she never knew when she would get this again. Ideally, it would be tomorrow, but Adrien could easily become engaged in one day.

It was all too soon when the innocent pecks turned into hungry nips, as he planted a heated trail up the column of her throat. Marinette bit her lower lip to rein in the pleasured gasp threatening to escape.

She released a cry when she felt his teeth lightly sink into her skin, her fingers tightening their hold on his hair. Damn him, he would always do that whenever she was trying not to loose a particularly louder moan. He paused for a moment, his lips stretching into a smug, wicked smirk before he continued his slow, torturous journey up her neck.

Her heartbeat doubled in speed as she felt him go higher and higher, his lips just ghosting over her jawline, towards her ear. Her breath hitched as she heard his own labored breathing, hot against the shell of her ear.

"Marry me," he murmured huskily before taking the lobe in between his teeth.

Oh no, not that again.

Lately during their heated meetings with each other, they would be at the height of their affection when he would utter those same words.

 _Marry me_.

He couldn't be serious, he knew perfectly well that a marriage between them could never take place. It was beyond her why he has been so persistent in asking her.

"We can't."

And her answer was the same each time. However, that would do nothing to deter him. On the contrary, whenever she refused him, he would kiss her with new, ardent fervor. Maybe he liked hearing someone actually say no to him, and that's why he kept asking the question? It would explain it.

He dragged his nose across her cheek, closer to her nose, when he pulled back and gazed intently into her darkened, lidded eyes.

"Yes, we can," he replied in a throaty whisper before bending down to capture her lips once more. "I've been speaking with my father," he explained, pulling back then kissing her again. He once more broke it off to continue. "I've rejected so many matches, that my father just wants me to marry and produce an heir. Be they Princess, Lady, or seamstress." He grinned in triumph, going for the last, but continuing without interruption, kiss.

Marinette froze at this new bit of information, her mouth still beneath his. They could actually marry? The King gave them permission to marry? She, not even a high-bred Lady of the court, could become the next Queen of France?

Her first reaction was to scream her acceptance, jump up and hug him to her, then laugh and let him twirl her around while they basked in each other's happiness because _both of them could marry for love_. On top of that, she could successfully lead the people and help them live the best life they could. Who better than a former peasant to know what was wrong and needed fixing in the village?

But, a small, tiny detail prevented her from accepting. She remembered a rather strange tradition that royals do when they're married.

On the wedding night, in order to prove the legitimacy of the marriage, the royal couple would have to have witnesses in the room while they consummated their marriage. It was perfectly normal for members of the royal class. However, for peasants like her, it was not.

She couldn't have someone watch her and Adrien during a time like that! It was supposed to be special and…well, having someone seeing them in that state would make her feel embarrassed and intimidated. The thought was enough to make her squirm uncomfortably, even with Adrien's strong and warm arms wrapped around her.

It was this fear that made the next word tumble out of her mouth.

"No."

He paused, slowly pulling back to peer down at her. He hardly looked like the poised and proper prince he always portrayed himself to be. His hair was mussed beyond repair, the crown he had been wearing that day left on the ground to wherever she had earlier tossed it. His usually bright eyes were now darkened with pure lust, his lips were pink and slightly swollen from their amorous encounter. His chest heaved with heavy pants, desperate to get some oxygen.

In seconds the look in his eyes changed to one of confusion. He gently tilted his head to the side as he took in her answer. "No?" he whispered, almost in disbelief.

She bit her lower lip, unsure of what to do at this point, afraid of his reaction. She didn't want to break his heart, but there was no way she could follow that awkward tradition!

Marinette was completely confused when instead of looking heartbroken, he smiled and exhaled as if relieved about something.

"Of course, my love," he replied, smiling and taking her hand in his to press it to his lips. She would normally feel little ladybugs buzzing in her stomach at the gesture, but now she just felt a rising sickness. "It's too early for marriage. I understand."

No, he didn't understand. He thought that she just didn't want to get married now, but would in due time.

She took a shaky breath, preparing herself for what she would have to say next.

"No, Your Highness. I don't want to marry you. Not now," she braced herself for the next part, "not ever."

He blinked, the smile dropping from his face as he let go of her hand. At that moment, she saw something in his eyes that she's never seen the Prince have: fear.

"N-Not ever?" he stuttered, a thing she's never heard him do. His words were always well-thought out and put together, they never failed to smoothly roll off his tongue.

She forced her eyes away from his, she couldn't look at him when he just looked so _wounded_. "Not ever," she confirmed.

His eyebrows furrowed, the confusion and disbelief dissolving into borderline frustration. "You said you love me, and I've repeated the sentiment more times than I can count. We meet with each other every day, write each other letters, and act like any other courting couple would. But you don't want to marry me? Why?"

She couldn't tell him the truth. He would either disregard her worry and assure her that people watching them making love was 'completely normal' or he'd laugh at her for her 'silly' fear.

Besides, the more she thought about it, there was no way she could become Queen. She didn't have a clue on how to act in the position, she didn't have either the grace or elegance to fulfill the role. She couldn't command a group of people in a room, the best she's ever done was lead the village children when they played games when they were younger. A court of nobles was entirely different.

She was just a peasant, training to become a seamstress. The people of France deserved a Queen who would know what she was doing. They didn't deserve a stumbling, clumsy baker's daughter who just so happened to catch the eye of the Prince.

She steeled herself and stared back into his eyes, attempting to look the picture of hard refusal. "I just don't want to marry you, Your Highness. That's all there is to it."

"No, it's not," he denied, bringing a single hand to the wall beside her head. It wasn't enough to trap her, but enough to show his purpose of wanting her to stay. "That can't be it. There has to be more." His stony visage just dared her to prove him wrong.

"There is no more!" she exclaimed, her earlier resistance slowly crumbling. "I-I don't want to marry you, nor can I. I can't become Queen, I have no idea how to fulfill the role. I'd be horrible at it!"

The blond scoffed in dark amusement before fixing her with a patronizing glare.

"First of all, it's 'Adrien' not 'Your Highness'. It's been that way since we confessed our feelings for each other that night in my study. Second, you hate liars, and that in turn made you a terrible one. You're not the kind of person who would back down from a challenge, Marinette. If we married, you would rise to the task of becoming Queen and try to be the best there ever was. You _never_ give up, why start now?"

Adrien knew Marinette for a year, and in that year, he learned everything there was to know about her. He learned all of her personality quirks, what essentially makes her tick. So he definitely knew that 'surrender' and 'concede' were not even in her vocabulary.

Also, if she really didn't want to do something, she would've been a lot more annoyed and furious about it, possibly even lash out at something.

So he knew something was wrong when she just seemed _desperate_.

"There's something else, isn't there?" he questioned solemnly. "Whatever it is, you can tell me, Marinette."

"There's nothing else!" she hissed back, her tone only confirming to Adrien that indeed there _was_. "I don't want to marry you and I can't be Queen. I'm sorry, Your Highness. If you will excuse me, I must be in Tikki's office."

Adrien made no move to stop her as she brushed past him and out of the corridor, knowing it would be useless to try to wheedle the truth out of her any longer.

An aggravated growl tore out of his throat as he bent down to pick up his discarded crown. Why couldn't she just tell him the truth? He made it clear that she could tell him anything, and she should already feel that she could considering they've been involved with each other for this long. Why did she have to be so stubborn?

She was so…

So…

A corner of his lips quirked up in a wry grin.

…Irresistible.

…

"I just rejected the Crown Prince, who is also the love of my life. I'm either stupid or _really_ stupid," Marinette groaned before burying her face in her arms that were resting on the work table.

The older seamstress simply grinned. "You're not stupid for rejecting the Prince. However, you _are_ stupid for rejecting the love of your life."

Her miserable moan of 'I knew it!' only prompted Tikki to giggle.

"Oh, Marinette, you're not stupid. Not at all. Although I do wonder why you refused him, you said so yourself that you love him."

"I do," she mumbled, finally bringing her head up to look at the redhead with somber eyes. "But I can't marry him. There's no way I can be Queen."

One patronizing look from Tikki was all it took to coax a bitter laugh from Marinette.

"Yeah, he didn't buy that excuse, either."

"So what is the truth, then?" she asked slowly, not wanting to seem anxious when in reality she was practically going insane by the lack of information. She was aware of this secret relationship ever since it first started. In fact, she knew when the Prince began to harbor feelings for the her charge even before s _he_ knew.

Well, all thanks to Plagg, that is. She made sure to reward the butler for his loose lips with a few wedges of his favorite cheese.

"I-well," she stammered, looking away from Tikki's piercing blue gaze. She wholly trusted the older seamstress, evidenced by how she was the only one she told about her and Adrien seeing each other. She wanted to tell her the real reason why she refused him, but she was worried of her reaction. Tikki would probably laugh at her for such a stupid fear.

"Marinette," Tikki gently spoke, resting her hand on the girl's shoulder. Her blue eyes twinkled with nurture and care, like a mother's would. "You can tell me anything without judgement. Whatever it is that has caused you to refuse Prince Adrien can't be anything to laugh about, anyway."

She was right. Besides, she needed to tell this to somebody, it was bad for a person to keep their feelings all bottled up inside. She didn't want her feelings to explode later on in the future.

Marinette sighed in defeat. "Alright. I refused him because…" she paused to wince and look away, not even able to look at her in the eyes. "Because of the tradition that comes with marrying royalty."

She waited for the giggling, or the unbelieved scoff, but none of those came. Instead, Tikki's eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion and her head was even tilted slightly to the side, as she no doubt tried to figure out what she was talking about.

"You mean you're scared of what happens during the wedding night?" The redhead slowly guessed. It was a fright that some women held, it wasn't all that uncommon. Since… _ahem_ , copulation was not a proper topic to speak of freely, it was often left a mystery to young maidens of what the act entailed. She didn't blame Marinette for being afraid of it.

The aspiring seamstress's cheeks delved into a heated rosy color. "I'm not scared of _that_ , Tikki!" she hissed, eyes narrowing. "Well," she faltered, glancing away again, "not completely. I'm afraid of the witnesses seeing us like that, since royals always have witnesses on the wedding night to prove the legitimacy of the marriage."

A few seconds of complete silence passed, with Marinette not even daring to look in Tikki's direction. She stayed still, bracing for the reaction.

Her shoulders slumped when she heard the sounds of _giggling._ She returned her attention to Tikki with a crestfallen expression on her face, completely hurt that the girl she chose to confide in was blatantly laughing at her insecurities.

The redhead opened her eyes and gradually ceased the amused giggles. Still smiling, she placed a hand on the younger girl's shoulder, only instead of it being comforting it only made Marinette tense and want to shrug it off.

"Oh, Marinette, is that all it is?" she asked, looking deep into the blackette's misty cerulean eyes. "I'm sure if you tell Adrien he can work something out."

"No, he can't, Tikki!" Marinette snapped, gritting her teeth. "It's tradition, every royal has to do it! Adrien is powerless against that. Besides, he might not even care about it. It's totally normal for people of his status, anyway."

She huffed tiredly, standing and letting Tikki's hand slide off her shoulder in the process. She crossed her arms in front of herself, shrinking into herself self-consciously. "I think I'll just go to my room. I'm not in the mood for sewing today."

Tikki gaped after her disappearing charge. Marinette not in the mood to sew? She thought the girl was feeling tormented, but now it has reached a whole new level if it meant she didn't want to _sew_.

…

"I don't get it, Plagg," Adrien lamented to the rather bored butler, his hand finding his hair to grip the smooth strands tight in his growing frustration. "Why doesn't she want to marry me?"

It had been a question he had been trying to figure out ever since she refused him earlier that day. He knew it had to be more than a case of 'I'm not worthy to be Queen'. Marinette was a courageous woman, who always rose to a task with pride. She would strive to be an excellent Queen, he was one hundred percent sure of that. It was simply in the girl's nature.

He also knew that she loved him. She's told him so multiple times, and kissed him even more times. He felt every bit of her love in each of her hugs, kisses, caresses, and words. So it wasn't a case of 'I don't love you'.

There had to be more, but what could it be? He's always prided himself on being a clever man with enough wit and skill to figure out any problem thrown at him. Yet for the life of him he couldn't figure out why Marinette didn't want to marry him.

"Maybe she finally woke up and realized what a sorry sap you are," Plagg drawled teasingly with a cheeky smirk.

Adrien sat down on his bed, releasing a weary sigh. He raised his head to look at Plagg, whose own gaze became solemn at the raw, pained look in the Prince's dulled green eyes.

"Maybe you're right, Plagg," he mumbled dismally. "Maybe she does think I'm a sorry sap, and just spent all that time with me because she felt sorry that I developed feelings for her."

Could that really be the reason she rejected him? Could it be there wasn't an ulterior motive for her not wanting to marry him, that maybe she just legitimately didn't want him? It was possible. Plagg often said he was too sentimental, too passionate, too much of a gentleman. He wasn't tall, dark, mysterious and handsome like all women fantasized about. He was tall, yes, but he was fair. He was hardly mysterious, he practically wore his heart on his sleeve.

Maybe Marinette just lost interest, that the initial spark they had just fizzled out for her.

Meanwhile, Plagg mentally cursed his rampant mouth. He really needed to start thinking before speaking, because now he just made Adrien feel worse. Before he was determined, now he was just sad and accepting of his loveless fate.

"Kid, I was only joking," he chided, frowning and taking a step closer to the young Prince. "Marinette loves you, trust me."

"How would you know?" Adrien bitterly snapped. "You never even met her, you have no idea how she feels about me."

The butler kept quiet to that, not yet willing to reveal his secret chats with Tikki. Because of the seamstress, he knew everything there was to know about Marinette's feelings for Adrien. Well, he knew what she chose to disclose to Tikki, anyway.

But he was sure to reward the seamstress's loose lips with a few of her favorite cookies.

"From what you've told me," he spoke slowly, careful of his words, "it's obvious that Marinette loves you as much, if not more than, you do her. I think she wants to marry you, but something else is preventing her from accepting you."

"Like _what_?" he whispered, looking away to stare at the floor as if the ornate rug would provide the answer. "What else could be preventing her?"

Before Plagg could offer any rare advice, a short knock sounded against the bedchamber door, causing the Prince and butler to snap their heads to attention in the direction of where the noise came from.

"Your Highness," came a servant's voice, "the King wishes to see you."

"Of course he does," Adrien muttered sarcastically to himself before speaking louder and more polietly. "I will see him in a moment. Thank you."

"Yes, Your Highness," the servant replied before the sound of his footsteps faded away.

Adrien stood, making sure to straighten his jacket to remove any possible wrinkles. King Gabriel expected everyone to look absolutely flawless, and his son was certainly no exception. In fact, as his heir, he was more than expected to look picturesque without a hair out of place.

"He probably wants to inquire of my engagement status," he grumbled whilst buttoning a golden button that had somehow come undone. _Probably from his romantic tryst with Marinette_ , he mentally noted. "He's not going to be very happy when I tell him what happened."

"Well he'll just have to get over it," Plagg replied, waving a flippant hand. The butler was the only one in the palace who _wasn't_ intimidated by the stern King. "He can wait a little longer for a grandchild."

Adrien paused in his quick self-grooming. Before his meeting with Marinette that day, he had been daydreaming of what married life would be like. They would no longer having to hide their affection for one another. Every day the first thing he would wake up to would be her beautiful face instead of the lonely space next to him. And then their child would come bursting through the door, eager and happy to join their parents in the big, plush bed and snuggle the morning away before he and Marinette would have to begin with their royal duties for the day.

In the fantasy he imagined a little girl with golden pigtails and ocean blue eyes, but he would be happy no matter if their child was a girl or a boy and he wouldn't care how they looked. The child would be his and Marinette's and that was enough for him.

He shook his head to dispel the mental image. He wasn't going to be living out that dream now, it was best to forget it.

"I better be going before he gets impatient," he sighed, moving towards the door.

"When is he ever patient?" Plagg retorted with a grin. A corner of the blond's mouth turned up in brief amusement before he left the room.

…

"Adrien," his father greeted with the same arctic voice the Prince has known since childhood, when his mother suddenly passed from an incurable illness. The King was warmer then, but ever since that horrible day his heart had frozen a few degrees over.

His son nodded. "Father," he returned, tone strong and unwavering. He squared his shoulders and sat up just a bit straighter to better maintain the proper etiquette that was expected of him.

Gabriel laced his fingers together over the mahogany desk, giving his son an unrelenting, expectant look. Adrien couldn't hold back the little fidget of nervousness, but luckily his father didn't seem to notice. Or if he did, for once he didn't comment on it.

"Have you secured yourself a wife?"

Adrien's eyes flickered away from the icy blue ones boring into him, choosing to stare at the desk below his arms in a moment of weakness.

"No. I haven't, Father."

He heard his father's disappointed sigh, the action prompting the blond to close his eyes as he awaited the inevitable lecture of how imperative it was that he secure a match and finally have his own heir.

"You did ask her, didn't you?" Gabriel asked, now sounding annoyed.

His son leveled his gaze to his father's, golden eyebrows drawn together with his own frustration. He had a pretty bad day, he thought it was safe to say that he didn't need to put up with this right now.

"Yes, Father, I asked her. She refused me."

A brief flicker of surprise passed over the older man's features, but it vanished before Adrien could fully wake notice of it. His mouth formed a pensive line as he finally looked away from the golden blond to stare down at the desk in deep thought.

"She refused you? Why?" he muttered. Adrien wasn't sure whether he was talking to him or not, but decided to answer anyway.

"I truthfully don't know, Father. She tried telling me that it was because she couldn't be Queen, but I know that couldn't be the real reason. She isn't one to back down from any sort of task, and I can tell she's a natural leader. And deep down she knows it too. It also can't be because she doesn't love me, she's told me so many times. Then again…I-" His voice broke, self-doubt creeping into his voice. "It's possible she could've been lying."

Gabriel scoffed, the sound of disbelief quick to escape his mouth. "If she was lying, then she is an excellent actress. Her letters could've fooled me."

A mortified blush blossomed over the young man's face, the action even leaving the tips of his ears red.

His father read their letters? He would pour out his heart in those written words, detailing how far his love went for her. He would write about her loveable personality, her little quirks he found utterly adorable, her enchanting beauty, her talents…the list went on.

He bit his lower lip as he delved deeper into embarrassment upon remembering some of the…(ahem _),_ _concupiscent_ things he would sometimes write, describing just where and when he would next pull her into a corridor and kiss her senseless, among other things.

So to realize that his father has been reading their exchanges for who knows how long? He was humiliated, to say the least.

Having noticed Adrien's mentally distressed state, Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"I care not of what you two write in your letters." He levelled a look at the wide-eyed Prince, raising an eyebrow before he continued. "Although, I am curious of how you learned to write like a common Don Juan."

Adrien choked.

Gabriel paid no further heed to the man's ever-growing mortification. "Her letters suggested to me that she cares for you deeply. And her love for you has been physically apparent for over a year, now."

This time all the color drained from his face. Did he-? But how-?

"Yes, Adrien, I was always aware of your little rendezvous," the King informed, his tone just as unimpressed as with the letters. "Do you seriously think that I don't know what goes on inside my own castle?"

"You…" He had to pause, still waiting for the new information to fully sink in. "You knew all this time? And you let us pursue our relationship anyway?"

Adrien thought that if his father found out he was seeing a girl below the title of 'Lady', he would immediately put a stop to it somehow. He didn't expect for him to very nearly encourage it!

Gabriel nodded. "Yes. You two were secretive enough about it, I didn't need to worry of any gossip arising concerning it. Also, I'm aware that all young adults go through a 'rebellious' phase. I figured you would get your fill of entertainment from her then move on, ready to marry a princess. However," he paused to raise a curious eyebrow, "you grew more attached than I thought you would."

Adrien blinked, confounded by this. He probably should have felt insulted that his father just insinuated that he would just use and toss Marinette when he was done, but he couldn't help being shocked at his reasoning for letting him see the aspiring seamstress.

He knew that young adults went through a 'rebellious' phase? He actually understood people his son's age? Well, he was that age at one point as well, but it was hard to imagine it given his cold nature now.

The King continued despite Adrien's surprised expression. "I kept offering potential matches with many princesses, but you rejected each one. It was clear to me you love the seamstress, and so after another bout of your pleading to let you marry whomever you wanted, I relented. I could've forced you to marry a princess, but I didn't want you to resent me."

Now Adrien didn't know what to do. Here was his father, the ever-distant King, showing care and concern for his future marriage. He honestly did expect Gabriel to arrange one for him on his own, yet he surprised him and didn't. At least he knew why, now.

And he didn't want his son to resent him? As far as Adrien was aware, _he_ resented _him_! Why else would he be so cool and distant from him for so long? He hardly knew of what to make with this new truth.

"And now the seamstress refused you," he mused quietly to himself, bringing his index finger and thumb to his chin in thought. "But the question here, is why?"

The Prince sat still while the man pondered, deep in thought about all this. He didn't want to speak, afraid of some other wild truth revealing itself caused by his talking. Instead, he tried to mentally sort and sift through the new information he was just rapidly given.

Meanwhile, Gabriel was trying to think of any reason why Marinette would refuse the Crown Prince. Adrien had said that it couldn't be a case of 'I'm not fit to be Queen' and he knew that she loved him. So why the rejection?

He paused, his mental gears grinding to a sharp halt.

Could it perhaps be the same reason why Celine had initially refused _him_ all that time ago? No, it couldn't be that, there couldn't be another repeat of that same problem occurring.

But what other explanation was there?

A corner of his lips twitched in amusement, the closest to a smile he'll ever allow himself to make in front of anyone.

Marinette should've been honest with Adrien if that was the case. He wouldn't mind letting the young couple have their privacy, as he was allowed to have with his late wife's. Sometimes traditions had to be broken.

Still, he couldn't tell Adrien of his conclusion. He had to let him figure it out for himself, or wait for the seamstress to tell him.

After all, he couldn't do everything in Adrien's life, now could he? No, he had to let his son solve his problems by himself.

Although, Marinette seemed to be a shy person. He highly doubted she would readily admit her fear to Adrien without some type of push.

And he knew exactly what kind of push that would be.

"Thank you for seeing me, Adrien," he bid without glancing up, reaching for a blank piece of parchment and his quill. "That will be all."

His son tilted his head as he tried to make sense of this new development. His father calls him in here, reveals to him how he knew about himself and Marinette, questions why she rejected him, and now it seems to be that he's writing a letter and kicking him out?

He shook his head, not in the mood for questioning his father's strange behavior. Standing, he moved to the door, just quick enough for politeness.

He dipped into a stiff, curt bow. "Thank you for your time, Father. I will be taking my leave now."

The King said nothing in response, prompting an eye-roll from the Prince as he opened and closed the door behind him.

…

Three days passed, and Marinette along with Adrien were completely miserable. They haven't met since that fateful day of the rejection, and both were obviously weary and depressed.

Marinette hadn't sewn or bothered to try to design anything, leaving Tikki worried and repeatedly requesting her to speak to Adrien.

"He probably hates me now, anyway," she would say stubbornly. "I'm sure he wants nothing more to do with me."

Plagg was almost at his wit's end with the unhappy Prince. Against his common, careless attitude, he always tried to get up the man's spirits. He suggested he ride his horse, practice his fencing, play the piano, hell, even go visit his friend Prince Nino that is more than a day's journey away.

"Maybe later, Plagg," he would reply quietly, both knowing that nothing was going to be done.

And Gabriel currently sat in his study, eyeing the return letter with a small, barely noticeable grin. If the date written was true, then that should be when they-

A knock quickly sounded against the closed study door.

"Your Majesty," his assistant Nathalie voiced. "Your guests have arrived. They are in the foyer now, and their belongings are being placed in their rooms."

"Thank you, Nathalie," he replied, beginning to stand. "I will greet them in a few minutes."

…

"Mari, did you hear?" Alya hurriedly whispered to her best friend. Together they were cleaning one of the castle's many fireplaces, this one was in the spacious library.

Marinette sighed before using the back of her arm to wipe some soot off her cheek. "No, Alya. Hear what?"

Alya Cesaire was one of the many castle maids, and also Marinette's best friend. She was also a huge gossip, there wasn't anything she didn't know. If something was happening, she knew and wouldn't hesitate to tell everyone possible.

That was the reason why Marinette didn't tell her of her secret romance with the Crown Prince. If Alya found out, everyone would know in less than 10 minutes, and she would say good-bye to her reputation and relationship.

So she was sure to cover her tracks well enough so that no wandering eyes would be able to catch her and Adrien.

Then again, since Alya was her best friend, there was a chance she wouldn't tell anyone if she found out. But she didn't want to take that risk.

The auburn-haired girl grinned conspiratorially. "I heard that a Princess is here to marry the Prince."

Marinette stiffened, but Alya was so wrapped up in her sneaky thoughts that she didn't notice.

"M-Marry the Prince?" she stammered nervously. A weight seemed to drop in her stomach at the horrible news. But she brought this upon herself when she refused him, so she had no right to be affected by this.

Alya nodded, a devious glint in her eyes. "Yes. Apparently the King wrote to Princess Lila's family to request them to come here in the hope of making a possible match between their daughter and his son. Everyone's saying that she's the prettiest and richest princess out there."

Marinette nodded, donning a weak smile. "Oh. Th-That's good. We need a rich ally, and who better than the prettiest princess for our future Queen? She'll make the throne look good."

Alya shook her head, frowning. "I don't know. There's also rumors that she lies a lot…" Her voice dropped to a low whisper despite them being the only ones in the room "One of them being about her virtue."

Her eyes went wide at that. Fornication before marriage was strictly forbidden for royal girls and, well, generally frowned-upon for women everywhere. If that was true about Princess Lila, she would be ruined.

"Well, looks like we're finished here," Alya suddenly announced, breaking Marinette out of her reverie. "Come on, we better go help the others with the ballroom."

The seamstress raised a curious eyebrow. "The ballroom? Why is the ballroom being cleaned?"

Her friend rolled her eyes good-naturedly with a smile. "Because of the ball being held for Lila's welcome? I know your head has been in the clouds lately, but come on!"

She shook her head, not believing of how she wasn't even aware of an event such as a royal ball being held. Was she really that out of it?

"Sorry, Alya. I guess I just forgot about it. Let's go, they do probably need our help."

…

She had no business being here. She wasn't a Lady or a Princess, she had absolutely no right to be at this ball right now. She was only training to become a seamstress, she didn't have the status, grace, or etiquette to be here.

So why was she currently hiding behind a marble column off to the side of the room, just out of sight of the guests, staring toward the thrones and more importantly, at the foreign Princess and Adrien?

She was only looking out for him, she told herself. She wanted to be sure this Lila was good enough for him. She knew him for over a year, so she considered herself to be a good judge of possible candidates for his wife.

Except Marinette wasn't really judging, instead she was more or less seething.

Princess Lila really was beautiful, the rumors weren't wrong. She had long, voluminous rich brown hair that reached her hips. She had a perfectly formed, feminine jawline and high cheekbones that only served to accentuate her beauty. Her lips were a red, Cupid's bow shape, and whenever she laughed her snow white teeth would gleam past her parted lips. She had long, black eyelashes and dark, olive colored eyes that were continuously lidded as she kept looking at Adrien.

To his credit, Adrien didn't look nearly as interested as she was with him. While she kept her head low and bowed towards him, her arm gently holding his own, he kept his head perfectly up and straight, not even glancing at her as he answered.

Marinette grit her teeth when Lila decided to switch tactics. She brought a single hand up to the Prince's chin, gently pulling it to her so she could look into the apple green eyes that Marinette loved to look into herself.

Adrien stared at the Princess with bewilderment clear on his features, as Lila leaned up to whisper something in his ear.

Marinette could almost feel the steam leaving her ears. She suddenly wished she had a book to bite onto to muffle an infuriated scream.

In her jealous haze, she didn't notice how she was nearly out of the column's safe hiding spot, leaving her clear for anyone to see.

And that 'anyone' included Adrien, whose eyebrows went up high as soon as he spotted her. Marinette momentarily forgot her envy as she looked back on in shock.

She bit her lower lip, suddenly feeling very awkward. It wasn't her fault, she hasn't seen him in three days and they parted on less-than-pleasant terms. Hm, actually, that was kind of her fault, wasn't it?

Adrien's attention flickered from the brunette still whispering in his ear (he had long tuned her out) and the ravenette clutching onto the marble column spying on him.

A grin suddenly curled the edges of his lips as his eyes flashed with mischief. When Lila leaned away to give him a coquettish smirk, he leaned down and poised his lips just outside her ear, keeping his cunning gaze locked on Marinette the entire time.

His ex-lover huffed in irritation and turned away, choosing to stomp out of the ballroom through the balcony doors, no longer caring if anyone saw her. She had seen enough.

Once outside, she quickly made her way to the castle gardens, far out of anyone's view. She sat on the edge of the stone fountain, crossing her arms and glaring daggers at the innocent grass below her.

Still silently fuming, she took a deep breath, enough to completely fill her lungs to full capacity, and exhaled. She repeated the action two more times before finally slumping over, this time staring at the ground in defeat.

She shouldn't have been so angry, there wasn't a rightful reason to be. Adrien asked her to marry him, and she refused. _She_ rejected _him_. She shouldn't care if he could potentially marry someone else. She shouldn't give two flying needles if that potential wife leans on him, whispers things that most likely don't pertain to the ball at all, latches onto his arm like a leech, and flutters those stupidly long eyelashes at him while giving him a flirtatious smirk.

And she should especially not care if he decides to flirt back with her. If he gives her that grin, with those eyes sparkling with sinful intentions. Nope. She shouldn't care one bit, because she had her chance and she rejected him.

Marinette sighed, pressing her palm to her cheek.

She had her chance, she had the chance of being with Adrien for the rest of her days. But she threw it all away because of a tradition that she was afraid of. Maybe if she had told him the truth, then perhaps _she_ would be on that throne right now, able to proudly hold his arm.

What has she done? Truly, she had to be one of the most stupid women of all time for willingly giving up such a caring, thoughtful, loving, handsome man.

"Running away again, I see?"

Marinette jumped and let out a startled squeal as her head snapped up, immediately taking in Prince Adrien standing in front of her. His golden eyebrows were furrowed sternly, his mouth forming a glower as his arms were crossed together in front of his chest.

But his earlier actions toward Lila were enough to break her out of the surprised spell, allowing her to give him one of her own stony looks.

"That's none of your business," she retorted.

He barked out a scoffing laugh. "It isn't? You spying on me isn't my business?"

"I wasn't spying!" she denied despite knowing good and well she was. "I was just…just…" she faltered, mentally trying to come up with a good defense. "I was seeing whether Princess Lila was worthy enough to be Queen," she finished with a tight-lipped smile, looking at the Prince defiantly. Ha! Take that!

However, Adrien merely grinned, effectively prompting her to doubt her hasty excuse. "You were seeing if she was worthy? Last I remember you said that you would have no clue on how to be Queen. If that's the case, then how can you judge someone to be right for the position?"

Her shoulders lowered as the corners of her lips tugged down. Hm, she didn't think of that. She was always proud of Adrien for being so smart, but now she cursed it.

"Do you want to know what I think?" he purred, bending over with his hands firmly clasped behind his back. She gulped as she leaned away from him, her heartbeat already doubling its speed by his close proximity. "I think you were jealous."

Marinette hmph'd and crossed her arms while turning away from him and sticking her nose up in the air. "I wasn't jealous! I don't get jealous."

"Well, I don't see any reason why you would be," he replied, retreating. "You rejected me, remember? You shouldn't feel jealous at all."

"And I don't."

He let out a non-committed hum.

"But maybe you should have kept her off you, for propriety's sake," she suggested, not able to hide the bitterness in her voice.

Adrien chuckled, the low tones sending a shiver down her spine. "You're hardly one to talk of _propriety_ , don't you think?"

Her cheeks flushed red at that remark. Getting over her initial embarrassment, she narrowed her eyes and directed them on the grinning Prince.

"At least we weren't in public. You and Lila were in front of everyone while she whispered in your ear like a common fille de joie and latched onto you like a leech. And you even partook in it yourself!" she accused, standing and pointing a finger at him.

"Did you know that speaking of a royal like that could get you executed for treason?" he asked lightly with a half-grin, taking a step closer to her. His expression soon turned into a scowl. "And Lila being here never would have happened if you accepted me. But you refused me, and now you're jealous."

"I am not jealous!" she screeched, her fingers tightening into fists in her growing temper.

"Why are you so damn stubborn?!" he growled. "I always loved that about you, but now you're being ridiculous. Why can't you just tell me the truth and save us both from all this unneeded anger?"

"I am telling the truth!"

"Stop lying. You're not fooling anyone, least of all me."

"I am not lying! You're lying!" She mentally cringed from that childish comeback, but she wasn't backing down now.

"I never lied to you a day in my life," he hissed, eyes flashing. "Don't you think I deserve the same treatment?"

"I already told you-"

"Save it and just tell me the truth! I know you love me and I know you want to be Queen, so just tell me the real reason why you rejected me."

"Fine!" she exploded, her fury erasing all thoughts of possible humiliation. "You want to know? I'll tell you!"

She jabbed a finger into his chest, her fiery sapphire eyes boring hotly into his expectant gaze.

"I rejected you because I don't want witnesses watching us on the wedding night. I think it's awkward and embarrassing. I didn't want to subject myself to their scrutiny. But it's tradition, so I knew there was no getting out of it. That's why I rejected you. Because I was too afraid of people seeing us like that. There! Are you happy now?"

Marinette growled and strode away from him, her fingernails digging themselves into her forearms as she crossed them.

Adrien blinked once, twice. Three times.

She loved him, she wanted to marry him, but rejected him because of a tradition he could easily get out of? He never even planned to go through with it, because he didn't want anybody to see him and Marinette in that kind of state either.

And it may have been possessive of him, but he felt that only _he_ should see Marinette like that.

Shaking off his primary shock, he hurriedly reached forward to take her arm before she could get away. Spinning her back to him, he looked into her annoyed blue eyes with a small, relieved smile.

"It may be a tradition, but it's not a law," he informed quietly, gently. He took both of her forearms with his hands and softly squeezed for comfort. "I can let us have privacy on the wedding night, that's no issue. And if my father is adamant about going through with the tradition, well," he grinned, "I will simply have to barricade the door to make sure they won't get in."

Marinette could scarcely believe it. He had the power to refuse to go through with the witnessing of the consummation tradition? All this time?

He shook his head, his lips quirking up in a sad smile. "You should've told me. Why didn't you?"

"I thought you'd laugh at me," she mumbled, not able to look him straight in the eyes. "I thought the tradition was natural for all nobility, and that it would be nothing unusual to you. So I thought you would either make fun of me or laugh."

"How could I laugh about you being uncomfortable about something?" he questioned. "Especially about something like that." He took hold of her chin with his fingers to guide her gaze back to his. "I told you that you can tell me anything. If there's something troubling you, you can always talk to me about it. Do you believe me now?"

Eyes already misty, she nodded. She almost lost him because of her insecurity and stubbornness. Then again, they still weren't engaged, so-

"Marinette," Adrien began, already bending down to one knee. His viridescent orbs shined with hope in their depths. "I believe there's nothing stopping us now. So, my love, will you marry me?"

He was right, there was nothing stopping them. His father gave them permission to marry, they both were hopelessly in love with each other, and they didn't have to complete the marriage night witness ritual.

All she needed to do was say yes.

Except…

"What about Lila?" she asked, raising both, curious brows.

His head tilted cutely to one side. "What about her?"

"You were flirting with her earlier," she elaborated, mouth set in a pensive line. "Right in front of me."

His features changed from confused, to panicked.

"I didn't, I swear I didn't! I made it look like that to get a rise out of you." He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "I told her that I was eager to get to the dessert table. It was nothing flirtatious at all."

Marinette covered her mouth with a hand to stifle her giggles. She could just imagine Adrien leaning close to her ear, with her expecting him to say something passionately romantic, but he would only end up saying he was hungry. She could imagine the look of indignation that no doubt took over Lila's face before she left.

"Besides," Adrien continued, his eyes taking on a devious glint. "You know I only save my flirtations for you."

She rolled her eyes at the cheeky smile he presented her with.

"So, um, what do you say?" he asked awkwardly, getting back to the matter at hand.

"Yes," the ravenette confirmed, no longer hiding her smile. "Yes, I'll marry you, Adrien."

The blond Prince let out a happy laugh as he stood, taking her by the hips to raise her in the air to twirl her around in their shared happiness. Three days ago he thought he would never hear her say yes, three days ago he thought he would be subjected to marry a vain princess like Lila. He couldn't be happier of how things turned out.

…

King Gabriel stepped away from the castle window with a satisfied grin. He immediately made to move to his study, where he would prepare an official letter to Lila's family, explaining to them that an issue has arose in which he couldn't form a match with his son and their daughter after all.

* * *

 **A/N: This literally took a few weeks to complete. The first file (that was halfway finished) got corrupted and I couldn't get it back. So I had to start over. Then I had my seasonal job to do where I practically worked every day, all day, so that delayed me even more. But now my job is done, and so you can expect plenty of updates from now on until my college classes start again :)**

 **Also, Merry (late) Christmas or Happy Holidays if you don't celebrate it :)**


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